Page 15 of Home Ice

"Good job, men. Wrap it up. Cool down. See the trainers if you need them. Hit the showers," Coach yells from his box. I look at him. What the fuck? "Don't worry, Morrison. Lapse of focus. It's your first time back on the ice against live fire. Just make sure it doesn't happen during a goddamn game or I'm gonna show you a whole new meaning of pissed. Now go see Evans to make sure you didn't break yourself again."

"Yes, sir." I use my stick to slap the puck out of my net, and turn to Kayden. "What the hell happened?"

He shakes his head and looks at where Lily was standing just a second before. "I went low and right, and he sticked it away. Right to Poppy. He fired the puck down to the Princeling. And you?—"

"Don't say it."

"I don't know what you were watching, but it wasn't anything on the ice."

I yank my hand out of my glove to flip him off. Then I head down the tunnel. I strip off my pads and toss them in a pile before heading to the training room next door. Evans isn't here yet, but she is. She's bent over a table, studying notes on her computer, but when I walk in she looks up. Her cheeks color, and she gaze darts to the sides like she's looking for help before her eyes settle back on me.

"Good practice." Her words sound forced and raspy.

I start to walk toward her but then stop. I don't want to come across as any more of a creep than I already have. "I looked like shit out there."

She laughs for a second but then catches herself and blanks her face. But when I smile, she does too. "Yeah, I was just trying to be nice. I've seen better goaltending at an under-12 game."

Now I laugh. "Ouch, Pajama Girl. You know how to hurt a guy."

"Just call it like I see it."

I walk toward her again, but I don't stop this time. I rest my hands on the other side of the table. Her face is just fifty centimeters from mine now, and I expect her to back away. But she doesn't. "What is it about you?"

Lily's face goes so white I'm sure there are corpses with more color. "Sorry. I shouldn't have—Sorry. You looked good out there. I mean, in a professional sense. Well, obviously. You moved like... I couldn't tell you had a knee. I mean a problem with your knee. I-I need to go, though. I need to talk to Dr. Martinez about... things. The things I need to talk to her about."

And before I can stop her, she's out the door and practically sprinting down the hall.

CHAPTER 13

HOW'S YOUR STALKER?

LILY

The house is only four blocks from home, but it might as well be in a different neighborhood. I park across the street and turn in my seat to look at it.

When I was growing up, this house had the prettiest rose bushes all along the front. In the backyard, there was an enormous wood swing set with a slide at each end. It was just like a playground. I would fantasize about one day living here. I'd marry whichever boy I happened to have a crush on at the time, and we would adopt three children. One for each of the swings. I would be the best mom ever. There would never be a second when my kids didn't know how much I loved them. I'd be nothing like my mom. And we would stay together. A happy family. Forever.

But now, the house looks like it hasn't been lived in for years. The paint is peeling. Under the front window, there's a dark spot on the house that looks like rotting wood. The rose bushes are still here, but they look like dead twigs sticking out of the ground. The swing set is long gone.

I don't know how long I sit here before my phone rings. I answer it without even looking to see who it is. Em is the only one who ever calls. She must have just gotten home from work.

"Hey sexy," she lowers her voice and purrs into the phone, and I laugh.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Only the ones who I miss and wish would come home so we could go to LoDo. I'm in the mood for some free drinks."

"And easy guys?" When I worked for the baseball team in Denver, Em sometimes met me after a game, and we would go out. The bars in Lower Downtown around the stadium are overpriced, but most of the men who go there to pick up girls are overpaid. So it works out. I never went home with any of them, but that didn't stop me from being Em's wingwoman.

"Always in the mood for that. So what are you up to?" she asks.

I should probably head home. There's no reason to sit here in my car. But I just stare at the deteriorating house and sigh. "Nothing. Like always. There's nothing to do here."

"There's lots to do there. I looked it up on reddit. Even started talking to some guy who says he's from there. He promised to show me around personally if I ever come up."

"You don't want me to give you the tour?"

She snorts. "You hate Salt Lake City. Your tour would probably just be the wastewater plant to show me how shitty things are and then back to the airport. Besides, getting a tour from a guy could have other perks."

---